Old Wounds
by xiaogui
Summary: Certainly, your meeting with Professor Snape cannot already be finished, Mr. Potter," Minerva McGonagall insisted. Oh you wait, Severus... Gap filler to OotP, attached to the chapter "Snape’s Worst Memory"; Minerva vs Severus; a little angsty one-shot


**Author: **XiaoGui

**Category:** General/Angst

**Beta:** Persephone Lupin for the original fic and the translation – thanks a lot, I really owe you!

**Summary and A/N: **This is a short gap filler for "Order of the Phoenix", connecting directly to the chapter "Snape's Worst Memory" – and I am not referring to the Marauder's story, but to the actual story of the book. What happened to our Potions Master after Potter's intrusion into the Pensieve? It's a translation of my originally German shortfic "Alte Wunden", featuring Severus Snape (obviously ;-)) and Minerva McGonagall. And no, it's no romance (just to make sure, hehe)…

I am Austrian and thus no native English speaker, so please forgive me possible mistakes and my probably not very sophisticated language. I did my best to catch the atmosphere... :-)

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**Old Wounds**

„Mr. Potter! Look out where you are going!"

Wandering around deep in thoughts, the boy had just crashed into her with full impact. Minerva McGonagall watched the student as he struggled back to his feet and put his glasses back on.

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall," he stuttered absent-mindedly.

The Gryffindor Head of House frowned. What was the boy doing out here in the corridors at such a late hour? Why was he not in the common room with his fellow students?

"Didn't you have an appointment with Professor Snape tonight, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

Harry mumbled some unrecognisable words.

"Certainly, your meeting with Professor Snape cannot already be finished, Mr. Potter," she insisted while glancing at the obviously extremely agitated child through narrowed eyes. What has happened there? Anger rose within her. Oh you wait, Severus…

"Mr. Potter, please return to Gryffindor tower. You really should not be prowling the corridors at such a late hour," she demanded sternly.

Harry mumbled a good-bye and left, head held low. McGonagall sighed. Sometimes the reasoning behind Albus' plans really did escape her. To assign _Severus_ of all people to teach Occlumency to young Mr. Potter… Sure, he was in fact the most experienced Occlumens at Hogwarts, but leaving him unattended in one room with the son of James Potter came close to a ticking time bomb. That he, being a grown up man and teacher, still went literally crazy when it came to the adversaries from his school days was hardly comprehensible for her. Although one can hardly call him a _pleasant and sociable _person, he usually was a rather calculating and level-headed character. He really should have grown out of these childish resentments by now. Turning on her heels, McGonagall started her way down to his office. If he had laid his hands on the boy… Fuming with anger she sped up her pace and descended the stairs towards the dungeons.

Arriving at the office she was somewhat taken aback, as the door stood slightly ajar. Strange, she mused, in all the years of Severus' teaching at Hogwarts, his door had always been closed, if not locked. Reluctantly she raised her hand and knocked, but no sound escaped from the room behind the door. Another knock, now more forcefully. Whatever had happened here, she intended to get an explanation from this man now. It was unfortunate enough how he used to treat all the students apart from his Slytherins, but if he had done something to Potter just because of his old quarrels with the boy's father, then she had finally had enough.

When there was no reaction to her repeated knocking, McGonagall slowly opened the door and entered the dark room. A creaky noise that escaped from under her shoes drew her gaze to the floor where she discovered that she had stepped into a mixture of shards of glass, dead cockroaches and slime. Shuddering she grimaced in disgust. No wonder that Potions Masters generally are considered a bit weird if they have to deal with repulsive things like this on a daily basis. Or in reverse – perhaps one only becomes a Potions Master, if…? Whatever… She fiercely brought her attention back to the current situation and began scanning the room for Snape. After her eyes got used to the complete absence of any lighting, she discovered him sitting behind his desk, his head buried in the familiar long-fingered hands, through which strands of black hair were pouring out.

McGonagall eyed him silently, the expression on her face stern. Sighing inwardly, she asked herself once again, what in Merlin's name had happened in here.

"Leave me alone, Minerva", the elderly Professor heard his voice, which escaped oddly hoarse and dull from behind the curtain of greasy hair. How could he possibly know it was her, she silently asked herself. Obviously he thought that Potter had sneaked on him! Her anger returned and with it her temper.

"Severus", she said, her voice fierce. "What happened?"

"Leave me in peace, Minerva," the voice retorted quietly yet threateningly. Snape's fingers became cramped in his hair. "Leave my office!"

Her eyes narrowed irately. "No, Severus. I will not leave until you have told me what you did to Potter."

Snape emitted a scornful laugh and slumped down even more.

"Look at me when I am talking to you, Severus," the Professor demanded. "Look at me and tell me what happened." She knew that the Slytherin not only was a good Occlumens, but a superb Legilimens as well. Moreover, she was well aware of what this man could do with the memories from the boy's past - and given their mutual smouldering animosity she wouldn't put it past him to use this knowledge against her student. "Did you compromise Mr. Potter in any way?"

Slowly the Potions Master sat up, black eyes glittering coldly through strands of hair.

"I daresay Potter does manage to compromise himself just perfectly all without my support," he commented icily.

"Now… then please explain to me what has occurred between the two of you," the Gryffindor inquired, highly annoyed. "Just a few minutes ago, Mr. Potter ran into me…"

"Indeed…" Snape mumbled dryly.

"…and he was completely agitated," McGonagall continued determinedly. "And since it was obvious to me that your Occlumency lesson could not possibly be over already…"

"…you felt obliged to make sure that I did not do any harm to your precious Gryffindor," the Potions Master interrupted, glaring at her. "As if the brat would not survive marvellously and thoroughly unimpressed by any evil under the protective cover of his arrogance anyway!" he spat out angrily.

At first the Professor was speechless over this hate-fuelled outburst from the Slytherin. She had gotten used to the surprises provided by Snape from time to time – particularly when that temper of his, which was usually well hidden behind this stoic-sarcastic façade, became triggered by certain irritations and exploded like a volcano. In most cases those irritations were directly related to his adversaries from his school time. That he did not feel any sympathy towards the son of James Potter was neither a big secret nor a surprise – however, she had never before seen him reacting so aggressively when it came to that topic. Steadying her agitated breathing, she tried to calm down a bit. If she confronted this man with self-righteous ire, who knows what he would be capable of doing in his present state of mind. Instinctively she sensed something had happened here, something that had gravely unnerved both her student and her colleague. Eying him cautiously she noticed that he was white as chalk. His black eyes flashed, but it was not exclusively wrath she could read therein.

"Severus," she started another attempt to get to the bottom of things. "What happened? What did you do?"

"Nothing," the Potions Master muttered dully, his hands once again clasping his downcast head while cramping fingers were digging into his lank hair. "Leave me alone, Minerva. Go!"

The Gryffindor took a deep breath through her nose, her lips a thin line. Now more than ever did she want to know what had caused this. She noticed a knocked-over chair on the floor and with a flick of her wand she first repositioned it, and then sat down. The Potions Professor made no further attempt to acknowledge her presence and she examined his downcast figure. This entire ruckus could not possibly be related to the strange occurrences around the Slytherin Quidditch captain? She had been to the infirmary personally just before she had her little run-in with Potter. Montague's condition was as could be expected under the unpleasant circumstances, true, but those circumstances were not lethal at all.

"The option of having even a feeble claim for privacy is out of the question within the walls of this school," the quiet voice sounded from behind the curtain of hair. "Isn't it, _Professor_?"

McGonagall flinched at being addressed with her title. For many years now, she and Snape had cultivated, though not an amicable, but a cooperative working relationship at the least. And through all the years they had used their given names to address each other – when there were no students around, that was.

"Severus," she began, her voice forced into utter calmness. "The quicker you tell me what happened, the quicker I'm going to leave you in peace." Saying this, she suddenly noticed that the narrow shoulders under the heavy, black robe were shivering. The slumped body of the professor was trembling! What the…?! "Severus…!"

Snape looked up, slightly reddened eyes shimmering with moisture. "What do you expect of me, Minerva?" he barked. "Would you dare try a jump into the Pensieve as well? May I cordially invite you to sharing my most protected memories with you? Though I suggest it would be advantageous to broadcast them on the notice board for the whole school to see afterwards, since we don't want to create a public get-together in these small private quarters of mine, now do we?" His voice was dripping with bitterness.

McGonagall's gaze shifted to the Pensieve, that was placed on the desk and emanated a subtle silvery shimmer. Slowly an idea dawned on her… "Did Potter…?"

The Potions Master shut his eyes tightly, almost as if in physical pain, and nodded his head nearly indiscernibly.

"What…" The heart of the Gryffindor skipped a beat. In Merlin's name, she thought horror-stricken. "Which memory…?" Dark scenes of Death Eater meetings, murders and other atrocities passed before her eyes. Her stomach clenched.

"I wished he had looked the Dark Lord in the eye," Snape mumbled dully, as if reading her thoughts. "I wished he had watched me committing some kind of misdeed. I could live with that, it would only have confirmed his image of me anyway. But instead of that…" Once again he buried his face in his hands.

McGonagall stared at her colleague, suddenly realizing what it was that Potter had seen in the Pensieve. The grown up professor, Master of Potions and Head of Slytherin house before her eyes was gone, replaced by a sobbing adolescent who had just received the harangue of his life for injuring one of her students with a dark curse. Not until later on had she got to know the whole story around the incident – Remus Lupin had been the one to admit that James Potter had exposed the young Slytherin in front of the entire school. After hours of searching, they had found him in the Forbidden Forest, and they all had been under the misconception that the boy had run away in fear of punishment for his actions. Of the true extent of this childish, stupid prank she became aware only later – when it was too late. Severus had never lost another word on the incident and she hadn't known that the episode still haunted him. And now, James Potter's son of all people had brought it back up… The first time in her entire life the elderly witch didn't know what to say.

McGonagall surveyed the downcast figure behind the desk. After twenty years, this man had once again been broken by a childish prank. Feeling uneasy, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, just because she didn't know what to do with her hands. A hint of remorse pervaded her conscience. Why didn't she… back then…

"Leave, Minerva." The voice sounded full of hate.

"Severus, I…"

"I said, _go_!"

Slowly she rose from the chair. The Potions Master didn't look up. She opened her mouth as if wanting to say something, but there was nothing appropriate to the situation that she could think of. Instead, she flicked her wand to get rid of the mess on the floor. As if that would be of any use yet, she thought bitterly, while opening the door. Standing on the doorsteps, she cast another, last glance at the sunken, dark shape of her colleague.

Too late – again, she sighed inwardly, silently closing the door behind her.

-o-0-o-

-END-

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**Any kind of comment would be highly appreciated, please let me know what you think of my humble little story… :-)**


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